It's A Mad, Mad, Fucked-Up World
by alejandra

Nobody quite understood why Orli suddenly started wearing ugly wool caps.

"I bet," said Elijah, "that he's trying to convince the world he's not gay."

"Nah," said Billy. "I think all his girlfriends do that well enough."

"I'm not a girl," said Dom. "Obviously."

"But," replied Elijah, "you were a one-night stand. That's always different."

"Are you saying that one-night stands are sexless?" Dom coshed Elijah on the head with a balled up fist.


Everyone had a theory. When Orli wasn't wearing a wool cap, he was wearing Legolas's wig. Or a kerchief. Always something to cover his head.

"Maybe he just doesn't like his hair," Astin said, exasperated.

"Don't be ridiculous, Seannie," said Elijah. "He has great hair, even with the weird cut."

"Just because he has great hair doesn't mean he likes his hair." Astin settled himself more comfortably into an armchair, put his head back and closed his eyes.

"Ta very much," said Billy. "That was extremely well-thought out."

"Maybe he should try a Mohawk?" suggested Liv. "They're very sexy."

"Why don't you tell him that then?" snapped Elijah.


Viggo painted Orlando on the wall of the cuntebego.

"Are those horns?" asked Elijah.

"No," said Viggo, and gave Orli blue eyes.


Orlando even wore a cap when he surfed, which was weird. Elijah wasn't sure what to make of it. He didn't wear a bathing cap, one of those rubber jobbies that pinched and pulled. No, it was the same grey will, pulled down low. In the heat, in the cold, in the ocean. Orli just never took that shit off.


"They're antennae," whispered Dom during Feet.

"Wha?" Elijah took a larger gulp of coffee and burned his tongue.

"Antennae. Y'know, like butterfly?" Dom leaned over and received a pinch on the thigh. "Ow!"

"Stay still," he was told severely.

"Antennae?" repeated Elijah. "How'd you find out?"

"Seduced him." Dom grinned, and Elijah felt hot. He hid his face in his coffee cup and thought about why Orli would need antennae.


Elijah pulled Orlando onto the dance floor, moved against him.

"I don't know how to dance to this rot," said Orlando. "What is this anyway?"

"This is Jay-Z," said Elijah.

"I don't like hip hop," said Orlando, and tried to move away. Elijah grabbed his wrist.

"I don't much like it either," he said, "but it's good for dancing." He showed Orli how to move his hips and shoulders, and they ended up laughing, but pressed against each other.


Orlando even wore the cap in bed. It scratched against the inside of Elijah's thighs, made him itch and wriggle.

"Take it off," said Elijah, and gasped.

Orlando pretended not to understand what Elijah was asking; he pulled off his t-shirt, and filled his mouth with Elijah's cock.


Orli was already in the shower when Elijah woke up the next morning. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling; Orli hadn't taken off the fucking cap. But he must have done to wash his hair.

Elijah slid out of the bed and padded toward the bathroom, staying as quiet as possible. He twisted the knob. Locked. And being totally naked, Elijah didn't have anything that would possibly open the door, like a credit card or a hairpin.

But the shower went off and Orli threw open the door with a towel wrapped around his waist and another being vigorously rubbed over his head, and Elijah tugged, and Orli let go, surprised, and there they were.

Two beautiful, golden, perfect antennae, with little balls at the end. Slightly curved.

Elijah reached out a hand. Orli was blushing. Elijah ran his fingers over the curve of one. It wasn't metallic feeling at all--it felt like skin. Like shiny, golden skin. Orli shivered, and put one hand on Elijah's shoulder, pushed him to his knees.

"Yes," gasped Orli. "Please."


They laid in bed, limbs tangled. Elijah stroked the antennae. "Why do you cover these up?" he said. "They glow."

"It would make people uncomfortable," replied Orli. He paused, moved his head a bit. Elijah licked the ball of one antenna and Orli shivered. "It's like Viggo's tail. Nobody quite knows what to make of it."

Elijah stopped. "Viggo has a tail?"

"It's just. Like, a freak of genetics," said Orli. "Like Billy's wings."

"Billy doesn't have wings," said Elijah. He licked the other antenna.

"Yes he does," said Orli. His fingers tweaked one of Elijah's nipples, gently. "They're pink."

"What kind of tail does Viggo have?"

"Like a deer, or something. Small. Fluffy." Orli preened under Elijah's tongue. "He'll show it to you if you ask."

"I think you should stop wearing the caps," said Elijah.


Orlando didn't stop wearing the cap, but sometimes he let Elijah pull it off him when no one else was looking, and stroke the quivering antennae, curled up into little spirals, hiding.


"I think you should shave your head into a Mohawk," announced Liv. "I think it would be very attractive."

Elijah didn't like the way Orli stared after her.


"He cut them off," sobbed Elijah, head buried in Dom's shoulder. "Orli cut off his beautiful antennae!"

Dom patted Elijah's back. "He couldn't keep them forever, Doodle."

"But one day they weren't there, and then they were, and now they aren't again!" Elijah sniffed, but the tears kept coming. "I loved them."

"If you love Orli, you'll love him even without the antennae," said Dom, and patted Elijah's back again.


Elijah kicked sand into Orli's face the next time they went surfing. "I hate your Mohawk," he said meanly, and walked away.

Billy caught up with him. Elijah kept looking for Billy's pink wings, but there wasn't even a bump under his wetsuit. "That wasn't nice," said Billy.

"I don't care about being nice."

"Orli has to do what's best for him. He struggled with that decision; you know he did." Billy slung an arm around Elijah's shoulders. "Come on, Lij. Be a grownup."

"I don't want to be. I want his antennae back." Elijah kicked a tree stump and limped for the rest of the day.


"Look," whispered Dom. He pointed to his forehead.

"What's that?" asked Elijah. He looked around for PJ, who was sufficiently out of range. Elijah lit a cigarette, sucked the smoke in gratefully.

"It's starting."

"What's starting?" Elijah looked closer at Dom's head. "What's that bump?"

"It's my horn," said Dom. "Magical things happen in magical places."

"I guess I'm just not magical then, am I?" asked Elijah. He carefully unclenched his jaw. "I don't have any extra bits."

"Don't say that, Doodle. You're plenty magical."

"Yeah? You're the one growing the horn. Viggo is the one with the fucking tail." Elijah felt hysterical and calm at the same time. He took another puff on the cigarette.

"Viggo has a tail?" Dom's eyes went wide.


"Uh, Elijah?"

Elijah didn't turn his head.

"Elijah," said Bean, louder this time.

"What?" asked Elijah. "What the fuck do you want?" He slammed his pint glass down onto the table. Bean glared at him.

"Forget it," he said, and pushed away from the table, walked up to the bar where Viggo sat, folding napkins into implausible shapes.

"Elijah," said Orli. Elijah turned. There were tiny golden nubs where Orlando cut off his antennae every morning. Elijah hoped it hurt a lot, but Billy said it was like cutting hair or fingernails.

"What do you want?" asked Elijah.

"You'd got--right there." Orli's fingers traced the back of Elijah's neck. "Lij, you have--"

"What have I got?" said Elijah. "Tell me now."

"They'reÖ like, dinosaur spikes." Orli's voice was almost reverent. "Like a stegosaurus."

"A stegosaurus my ass," said Elijah.

"No, really," said Orli.

Elijah twisted around to look.

"Whatever," he said, when he couldn't see anything at all.


"I like your spiky things," said Dom, running a hand over Elijah's back. Elijah felt himself undulate, rolling up to meet Dom's hand as it trails all the way down. The spikes have a mind of their own, they do, and Elijah knows better, now, than to interfere with what they want the rest of him to do.

He finally understood why Orli kept his antennae covered for so long.

"So why do you think you have spikes?" asked Dom, running his hand over them again. His horn is glittery and silver and when the sun hits it, it's almost blinding. Elijah isn't sure what PJ is going to do to the film to make it make sense; Merry is not supposed to have a horn, any more than Pip is supposed to have pink wings (which Elijah still hasn't been able to get a glimpse of), or Aragorn a tail. Or Boromir tusks.

"I dunno. Why do you have a horn? Why does Orli have antennae?" Elijah paused, tilted his head. "It's just the way of the world I guess."

Dom palmed his own horn, pushing a bit at the tip. "It's a mad, mad, fucked up world," he said.

"Yeah," replied Elijah. "But what're you gonna do?"


Johnny had heard all the rumors about Orlando Bloom's antennae, of course, but he paid about as much attention to them as he paid to the rumors about his flippers. People tended to exaggerate. What would he do with flippers? Ridiculous, really.

Orlando showed up for sword training wearing a grey skullcap, and Johnny's curiosity was piqued. He painted Orlando without the skullcap, with shimmering silver antennae. Green antennae. Orange. Metallic red. He watched Orlando carefully, but there was never any indication that all was not as it seemed, that he didn't have a normal head like everyone else.

No indication except the grey woolen cap that Orlando never took off.

Orlando took his staring in stride, Johnny noticed. People stared at Orlando all the time. But Johnny wasn't staring at his pretty face or his lithe body or his capable, callused hands. Johnny had all that himself. No, Johnny was staring at his head, because Johnny did not have antennae, and he was beginning to think maybe Orlando did.


"You stare at me," says Orlando one day. "And..."

"What?" asks Johnny, and thrusts his sword. Orlando neatly steps away, one arm held up. Perfect form, that brat.

"You're married," Orlando says simply.

"Not quite," he replies, and Orlando shakes his head.

"Close enough." Orlando disarms him and his sword clatters to the floor.

"So?" asks Johnny. He bends over and hangs, hands brushing the floor, breathing deeply. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

"Sorry." Orlando sounds hurt, but by the time Johnny stands up to explain that he meant swordfighting, not flirting, Orlando is already far away, sipping from a paper cup and smiling at one of the production assistants.


"You're still staring," says Orlando. It's weeks later, almost time to start filming. They're in what will become the makeup trailer, waiting. Always fucking waiting.

Orlando is still wearing that blasted grey cap, and Johnny is ready to fucking rip it off his head if that's what it will take to see whether or not the antennae rumors are true. Elijah Wood said in an interview that they were, but Elijah Wood is an idiot and Johnny knows better to believe what's printed in magazines for American women.

"Yeah, well, you're not hard to look at." It's been so long since Johnny's had to flirt for what he wants, he's almost forgotten how. He thinks perhaps Vanessa wouldn't be entirely opposed to a liaison with this child, although she'd like to be involved more than she'd like to let Johnny have him alone. If Johnny could even have him. He locks the trailer door.

Orlando blinks at him, slowly. "Neither are you."

Now what did that mean? Johnny moves closer.

"I don't think this is a good idea," says Orlando. His voice is almost a whisper, his hands are shaking. Johnny snickers to himself. Nothing wrong with a little intimidation to get what you want, although Johnny really would prefer it if Orlando was less intimidated and more enthusiastic.

"I think it's a fine idea," replies Johnny. He's backed Orlando into a corner.


"Quiet." Johnny holds his hand over Orlando's mouth. "Don't say a word."

He's surprised to find that he actually does want to sink to his knees, unbutton Orlando's denims, and take his cock inside his mouth. It's been a while, and he forgets to shield his teeth, and Orlando shudders under his mouth and fingers. It's not just trying to get under the cap anymore, it's everything missing about fucking a woman, even a woman who doesn't mind strapping on a silicone cock once in a while and slapping his face with it.

When Orlando comes, Johnny is entertained that he's still quiet. He hasn't even made a sound since Johnny told him to shut up. That was what he was talking about--not a sycophant, just obedient.


Orlando really does have fucking antennae.

Johnny learns to grab them, to use them to twist Orlando's head around while they fuck.

He mourns their loss when they must be cut off so they don't interfere with Will's hair, but he likes to rub the golden stubs of them--not silver or metallic red or green, but gold like someone painted them with glitter glue.


They're halfway through filming when Johnny realizes that his toes are growing together.


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